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Dual Wielding
55. First Flight

55. First Flight

It turned out flying was harder than Corrin had thought. He’d originally assumed you just jumped off and it kinda worked. Apparently there was more to it than that though. As they’d walked across the crowded bridges and lifts of Precipice, Finian had explained to him the basics of flying: which pulleys did what, where to put his feet, his hands, and a brief, but uninteresting lesson on the history of human flight.

They’d traveled a short way from the workshop to a place where the winds were apparently better for new flyers. The wooden semi-circle, jutting out from the cliff face was the only structure for several hundred meters, and they’d had to walk through a tunnel bored into the cliff face before taking a ladder down to reach it. Its construction was a little shoddy, but according to Finian it was perfectly safe.

Though, there was one point Corrin realized Finian had actually skipped out on.

“Hey, how do I take off?”

Finian ignored him, continuing to tighten several straps and check gauges. He grabbed a small rip cord on one of the wings, “Listen up, this is the most important thing. If anything goes wrong, or you get about halfway down and still haven’t caught wind, give this a pull and it’ll activate a parachute for you. I’ll come pick you up on the ground if that happens, there’s lifts we can take back up.”

“Uh all right but–”

“And remember, hands here and here. Pulling this will make it lean left, and this will lean right. Pull or push both to go up or down.”

“Right, I remember. But Finian–” Corrin tried.

“Oh and last thing, if you want to land, try to fly parallel to the surface you’re landing on, just high enough that you can unhook your legs, then lightly pull forward on these two levers. If all goes well, you’ll only get a couple bruises on your first try!”

Corrin grabbed the boy’s shoulder, forcing him to listen, “Finian! How do I take off?”

Finian just raised an eyebrow and smirked, pulling the goggles from his forehead over his eyes as he adjusted the straps on his own glider.

“How do you think?” He walked backwards until his feet were at the very edge. “You jump.”

Finian fell backwards out of sight.

Corrin took a few steps forward and looked over the edge of the platform, into the open air. Where had he gone?

A blur of brown shot up just in front of him, and as Corrin’s head snapped up to follow, Finian let out a loud whoop, which echoed briefly off the cliffside. A moment later, he began spiraling and flipping through the air, tracing complex patterns Corrin could hardly even make sense of.

Corrin took another look down the edge, and the memory of tumbling off the side of the cliff in the Founder’s Tomb came to mind without warning. The grass below was far, far further than that had been.

“Wait, I'm not afraid of heights now am I?” He wondered aloud.

Well, only one way to find out. He was making his debut in style. Corrin took a few steps back, before getting a running start and diving off the side. The ground raced towards him faster than he’d expected, but the platform was higher up than he’d dared to imagine, and it seemed like he could fall forever. Still, it was probably best not to.

Following Finian’s instructions, he pulled gently on the glide levers, and his fall began to level out as the wing canvas slid into place. As he finally began moving horizontally, he could get a real feel for his speed. It was… exhilarating. The wind tore against his face, even with the aid of wind-spirits to dull it, and he shot towards the horizon at the speed of an arrow. His lips instantly dried, and tears formed in his eyes from the intense wind. He could understand why Finian wore the glasses he did.

If he lost control of the flight at this speed, he’d be dead before he even realized what happened. It was utterly terrifying, but the rush, and the surge of energy and freedom that came with it was intoxicating. Corrin began to laugh, though the sound of it was drowned out before ever reaching his ears. Beneath him, the grass sea blurred past him as he left Precipice behind, and only by looking forward at the endless green expanse could he make anything out.

Going straight and fast was fine, but any good adventure was bound to have some twists and turns. He tugged on a lever and began banking to the right in a wide arc, squinting his eyes as the light of the setting sun met them. He continued the movement, completing the turn and heading back in the direction of Precipice.

A flock of huge birds–each as large as a person–passed on his right, slowing down as they flew by, as if sending him an invitation. Scores of them began diving down towards the top of the grass, each one covered in various bright, multicolored plumages that seemed to glow in the warm orange of sunset. The bravest of them went into the grass a few meters before swooping back up the top, but most merely grazed the top, making their presence known to the earth below without challenging it.

Corrin caught sight of a glider amongst the birds, its brown and gray coloration sticking out amongst the bright greens and oranges of the rest of the flock. If it weren’t for his eyesight being so sharp, Corrin would’ve never caught it, but it was definitely Finian.

The experienced boy spun in the air before confidently diving down with the rest of the birds, brushing against the tips of the grass before quickly ascending back to the skies. Even as he flew, he glanced back at Corrin expectantly.

Corrin answered the unspoken challenge. It was an easy enough maneuver after all. He dove down within the flock of birds until he was within reach of the top of the grass. The foliage was so thick that he couldn’t see more than a few meters past the surface, and everything below was a mystery. He got an uneasy feeling in his gut and pulled up on both levers, shooting back up into the sky, his stomach lurching at the sudden change.

Looking ahead, he saw Finian looking back at him. Finian was weaving left and right lazily, but still somehow managed to stay ahead, even though Corrin was traveling in a straight line.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

How much faster is he going? That’s awesome!

Corrin followed as best he could as Finian made a series of wide arcs and dives, seemingly flying slower so that Corrin could keep up. Each turn seemed to bring them into a new updraft, allowing them to rise higher and dive yet again, keeping the flight going. Somehow, compared to his initial flight and turn, following Finian almost seemed easier, like the winds were always blowing precisely in the way that was best for whatever movement they were making.

They rose up into a steep climb, entering an updraft which carried them both higher and higher, until they were above the height of the plateau itself, ascending into the skies above the savannah. Finally, their climb began to stall, Finian reached the peak and began to fall. For a brief moment as Corrin’s own momentum slowed, they were halted at the top of the world, and they were moving just slow enough for them to actually hear each other.

Finian let out a loud whoop, and Corrin did the same, reaching the apex of his climb while the other boy dropped into a dive.

Hovering at the peak for a moment, Corrin looked out over the world, taking in the way the green grass turned a burnt yellow in the light of the setting sun. He hadn’t paid enough attention before, but being further from Precipice, he could see further into the plains. Trees, large enough to sprout out above the grass were dotted at intervals perhaps miles apart, and certain rock formations and hills rose out of and shaped the grass sea.

Corrin exhaled slowly, he really was glad he had–

Oh right, I’m falling.

He hadn’t turned back over like he should, and his wing caught the wind at an awkward angle, sending him tumbling into a spin.

Shit shit shit.

He grit his teeth and tried to pull the glider back into the right orientation, but the air pushed back against the canvas with an immutable force. His breath hitched as he forced himself to stay calm, clamping down on his panic like the jaws of a bear holding a fish. The ground was still some distance away, he had time.

There was a cord Finian had pointed out, next to his left hip, that released the tension on the canvas wings. It wasn’t supposed to be pulled until after he landed, for storage, but if he could pull it now… His arm was in a strap, holding it firm to the wing, and he couldn’t reach the cord without taking it out, he somehow managed to slip it out of the harness right as a huge gust of wind pushed him in a different direction.

Corrin pulled on the wing release, and the canvas on the wings snapped back into their dive positions, no longer catching the wind. With the tension let out, his fall sped up even more, but he was back in control. Corrin spun in the air until he was facing the ground yet again. The wind raged against him, trying to upset his balance as he strained his arm back into place, fighting against the force of the fall. He missed the strap, once, then twice, until he finally slid it back into place. It was looser now, but it would work.

The ground rushed up to embrace him, and he tugged hard on the glide levers, pulling the canvas’ back over the wing frame, and he lurched upwards as they caught the wind once again. He nearly lost control for a second time, but he was able to hold together, and the glider evened out. Corrin let out a sigh of relief and turned back towards the platform. The sun was past the horizon and it would be dark soon.

He approached as slowly as he could, following Finian into a much weaker updraft to get above the platform height. As he came down, he unhooked his legs from the stirrups and let them dangle beneath him. After gliding parallel to the platform for a moment, he pulled forward on the levers and was brought to an abrupt stop. His legs hit the wooden surface with a dull thud, and he was forced into a crouch to absorb the impact. The forward momentum hadn’t slowed as much as it seemed though, and he was caught unprepared, tipping forwards and landing on his face.

It didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve, and as Corrin breathed out he realized he’d been channeling mana. He didn’t remember starting to do it, but thinking back, it must’ve been since the start of the flight. He hadn’t meant to, but figured it was in response to the thrill, which was similar to a fight.

Well, whether or not it hurt “less”, it hadn’t exactly been a smooth landing. Corrin rolled onto his back and groaned. Finian laughed from over to the side, he’d made the landing look much easier.

“If it makes you feel any better, everybody does that their first time. It’s velocitation. You get used to going so fast that by the time you land, it feels like you’re at a crawl, when you’re actually going faster than a sprint,” Finin explained.

“Thanks for telling me now.”

“I promise it wouldn’t have helped,” Finian laughed. “It’s something you really have to feel for next time. You can come in slower with more practice, but you still have to land in a crouch, so eventually you end up doing a kind of crouch walk, it’s tough to get used to it.”

“You made it look so easy,” Corrin said.

“Well I’ve been at this for a lot longer than you, speaking of which, you were a natural! Were you pulling my leg when you said it was your first time? I’ve never seen anybody have such a good first run! Well, maybe me… But still!”

Mana might have been cheating a bit with the boosts it gave to his physical abilities, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t more than earned it.

“Well I’ve always been athletic, and my hand-eye coordination is really good thanks to my training. Plus I’m pretty good under pressure.” Corrin shrugged.

“Oh yeah,” Finian started before punching Corrin in the shoulder. “What the hell was that fall? Just pull your parachute next time idiot! It’s a miracle you were able to right yourself, even a lot of experienced gliders would struggle with that!”

“I managed it didn’t I?” Corrin chuckled nonchalantly, though it had been a little closer than he would’ve liked.

“Pure luck, and we both know it. Pull your parachute next time, you’ve got some potential to be a good flying buddy, so don’t die on me.”

“Yeah yeah I will,” Corrin said.

“So, think you’ll buy a glider then? I can’t keep letting you use this one for free.”

Corrin rubbed his chin. “Well how much are they?”

“A decent one will run you about a gold mark, they’re pricey I have to admit. Most people rent for cheaper though, only a few copper marks for a day.”

“Great! I’m gonna go beg my–I mean go get some money. I’ll be back tomorrow. Can we meet here or do I have to go back to your shop?”

Finian looked up the rope ladder connecting the platform they were on to the rest of the city. “Probably for the best if we meet here, I’ll bring a glider for you. Let’s just say midday?”

“Yeah that works, thanks Finian.”

Finian shot a thumbs up, “I’m just happy to spread the joys of flying to somebody. Anyways, just leave your glider there, I’ll take it back later, for now I’m gonna go on a night flight.”

“Oh all right, guess I’ll see ya tomorrow then?”

“Yep, see ya tomorrow!” Finian waved and walked back off the side of the platform before shooting off into the dark.

Corrin unhooked himself from the glider and set it down on the ground. Then, he started climbing up the ladder back to the top. Halfway up, his stomach rumbled, and he realized how hungry he’d gotten.

I hope Wyn hasn’t eaten already.